


back on my beat

by stonesnuggler



Series: erie forever, otters for life [3]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Domestic, F/M, Gender Roles, Rule 63, Team as Family, Women in the NHL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 02:10:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18561817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonesnuggler/pseuds/stonesnuggler
Summary: Alex isn’t a fashionista by any means. If she could live in athletic shorts and Dylan’s t-shirts and her super-comfortable-and-totally-lucky sports bra, she would, full stop. But sue her if she wants to wear a cute skirt and a crop top, or maybe heels that don’t bring her anywhere Dylan’s dumb gangly height.But sue her if sometimes she just wants to feel fuckingcute.[Or: the one where Alex says "fuck you" to the NHL's unwritten dress code]





	back on my beat

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to l, g, and e for instigating this and being cheerleaders for it the whole way!
> 
> title from party for one by carly rae jepsen which was stuck in my head the whole time i was writing this

The thing about Alex DeBrincat is that what you see is, more or less, what you get. 

Okay, backing up. 

The thing about Alex DeBrincat is that she is a woman, and she is a hockey player. These things are not mutually exclusive, and while she has let the world know it -- while she’s not even the first woman on her own  _ team _ \-- it’s still a little hard for everyone to wrap their heads around this concept sometimes. 

For example, she tends to stick to suits for game days, and the first day she showed up in a dress, Hayds nearly dropped his coffee. 

Hayds, who is  _ still _ dating one of the girls who used to be on the Blackhawks. 

And like, look. She’s lived her life wanting to blend in. It’s hard enough being a girl on an original six, let alone a  _ small  _ girl, and don’t even get her started on being a small girl on an original six team who is dating one of her teammates. 

She’s not crying a river about it, but it’s fucking tough sometimes, okay? Especially when there are still -- even in 2020, even though there have been women in the league for nearly a decade and a  _ half _ \-- men who think she’s not capable of anything she accomplishes on the ice.

So, blending in. 

And it’s fine, you know? It’s great. She gets her chances to dress up when the team goes out, or on date nights with Dylan. She pretty much lives in dresses over the summer, when all she has to do is train and when barely anyone thinks to stop her while she’s out on a Freshii run or something. 

Deadspin isn’t dying to put her on the front page of the site for wearing a dress, is what she’s saying.

But here she is, standing in front of the mirror in her and Dylan’s closet in high waisted jeans and a crop top -- her usual first-day-of-captain’s-practices attire -- wanting to do nothing but take it all off and get completely redressed. 

“You’re doing the thing again,” Dylan says, coming behind her and wrapping his big dumb gangly arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You look uncomfy.” 

“Is uncomfy even a word?” Alex tries, leaning back into Dylan, but he’s right. She is uncomfy, even if it’s only marginally so. It’s just captain’s practice. 

“Comfy is a word,” Dylan reasons. “And you, kitty, are not comfy. One could even say  _ uncomfy. _ ”

“One could also tell her boyfriend to shove it,” Alex says, and she’s only pouting a little. 

But he’s right, is the thing. Last year, this wouldn’t have been an issue. She could’ve just thrown on her favorite navy sundress and her birks and waltzed into captain’s practice, maybe gotten some chirps from Sharpy but she wears  _ mom jeans _ unironically and not for fashion purposes, so who is she to say anything anyway. 

And, like, Alex isn’t a fashionista by any means. If she could live in athletic shorts and Dylan’s t-shirts and her super-comfortable-and-totally-lucky sports bra, she would, full stop. But sue her if she wants to wear a cute skirt and a crop top, or maybe heels that don’t bring her anywhere Dylan’s dumb gangly height. 

But sue her if sometimes she just wants to feel fucking  _ cute _ . 

She sighs, and really just tries not to think about how this is the first time walking into this room where she knows there will be an A on her game day jerseys. How maybe things will be different, but how they probably won’t be at all. 

“Fuck it,” she says, suddenly moving out of Dylan’s arms and over to her side of the closet. “I’m wearing it. I’m wearing the outfit.” 

Dylan’s smile is slow as it comes across his face, trails up to his eyes. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” she says, pulling two hangers down. “And the cat shoes.” 

“Fuck yeah, babe,” Dylan says, holding out a fist, and Alex bumps it. “Take your time, I’ll take Ralphie on his last walk.” 

“This is why I keep you,” she says, already unzipping her jeans as Dylan heads out of their room. 

“Just to walk the dog,” Dylan calls back to her, and she smiles. 

“Among other things!” 

Dylan laughs and she can just barely hear the jingle of Ralph’s tags, then the leash. “Love you, bye!”

She’s already got her shirt and jeans off by the time she hears the door shut, and the striped crop top on a second later. The pink overall skirt is quick to follow, and the second she has it settled around her hips, it’s like she can breathe. 

Not everyone can be Jonny, okay? Even if she looks bomb as  _ fuck  _ in her perfectly tailored pant suits -- even told Alex the name of her tailor when she got to Chicago her rookie year, what a beauty -- that’s just… Not Alex.

She looks in the mirror, swishes her hips a little, and when she meets her own eyes, she’s not surprised by the smile she’s met with. She feels settled. Like something has finally clicked. 

Seeing this, seeing herself not adhering to the dumb, unwritten rules that are meant to be followed by female NHLers almost gives her enough fuel to plug in her curling iron, but they only have so much time before they have to leave. Plus, Dylan braids her hair before practice anyway, so it’d be a waste. 

That doesn’t stop her from swiping on some lipstick and maybe a touch of mascara. The good, waterproof shit that Sharpy got her for her birthday. 

By the time she hears her boys coming through the door, she’s got the full ensemble together -- black and white striped crop top, pink overall skirt, and her ballet flats with cat ears. 

Take that, NHL. 

She’s setting up their pre-workout shakes in the kitchen when she hears a low whistle from behind her. 

“You heard it here first folks,” Dylan says, coming over and kissing the top of Alex’s head. “Alex DeBrincat will kick your ass, and she’ll do it wearing pink overalls and cat flats.”

“Damn right,” she says, handing Dylan his blender bottle. “Good to go?” 

Dylan hums, latching the bottle shut and shaking it idly. “You driving?”

“‘Course,” she says, snapping her own bottle shut. “If I’m showing up in a dress, gotta intimidate the rookies with the car.” 

“Whatever you say, dork,” Dylan says, tossing her the keys. 

/

Dylan picks the playlist, since Alex is driving. It’s their usual arrangement, and Alex typically likes all the stuff Dylan plays -- it’s perfect end of summer, driving with the windows down kind of music. 

Everyday with him feels like that, she’s come to realize. 

She’s rapping her way through Kendrick’s Humble when they come to a stoplight and she hears Dylan snicker a little. Sure enough, when she looks over at him, he’s got his phone pointed right at her, biting back a real smile. 

“ _My left stroke just went_ _viral_ ,” Alex sings, turning right to him before pushing his phone away from her. 

By the time the light turns green, he’s laughing so hard she can’t even see his eyes, and she’s reminded exactly why she loves him. 

He’s still laughing by the time Alex pulls into the parking lot of Fifth-Third, and she lets him have his moment and send his dumb Snapchat while she pushes her sunglasses up and checks her makeup one more time. The gleam of her chain catches the sunlight, sparkling in the mirror and she can’t help but catch it in her fingers, thumbing over the metal. 

“Go big or go home,” she says, pulling the chain out from under her shirt and letting it rest on top, the thin promise band on full display. 

Dylan hums, inquisitive as he puts his phone in his pocket. “Yeah?” 

Alex smiles, untwists it on the chain. “Yeah.” 

“Let’s go then,” Dylan says, smiling as he tugs his own chain from under his hoodie. 

/

She would love to say that walking into the room is entirely normal and nobody gives her a second glance. That would be ideal, even. 

But there are new faces in the room, some that have only met Alex during camps or maybe for a brief second at Hawks Convention where she’s either in leggings and a t-shirt or her favorite navy suit. 

Never have they seen her dress like the twenty-two year old that she actually is. 

Alex doesn’t say anything as she walks into the players lounge, just chews a little on the inside of her lip. She can’t see Dylan’s face where he’s walking behind her, but she’d bet a fair amount of money that he’s trying and failing to school it into something neutral. 

Usually, she’d be a little annoyed – she can handle herself, and he knows this – but right now, it’s what’s keeping her from shaking.

“What’s up, baby cap?” Gus is crowing, coming over and pulling her into a hug, and even that is enough to get her to exhale. “You’re wearing a dress.” 

“Novel concept, right?” she says, pulling away and managing something of a smile on her face. 

“Well,” Gus says, twirling his finger in the air. “Let’s see it. Give it a spin.” 

Alex rolls her eyes, but turns around in a circle anyway, and when she’s facing Gus again, Jonny is next to him.

“Damn, Brinks,” she says, smirking a little. “Look at you.” 

Selling it, she gently curtsies. “Figured I’d change it up a bit,” she says, shrugging.

Jonny comes closer then, plucks at the chain around her neck and smiles knowingly before looking over at Dylan and his matching chain, his matching red cheeks.

“You two are disgusting,” Jonny says, rolling her eyes and heading toward the room. Rich, coming from her with how gross her and Sharpy are. “Fashion show later, get to the room. I’m just doing conditioning today, so you two are in charge today, for some reason.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Dylan laughs, coming over and slinging an arm over Alex’s shoulders. “You good?”

Alex nods, tugs at her skirt before smoothing it out. “Good,” she confirms, taking Dylan’s hand. 

They’re still holding hands when they walk into the room, but Dylan drops her hand in favor of getting their pre-practice gatorade and then she’s alone. 

The vets and returners don’t even spare a second glance, but Henri – she’s stopped talking to the newer rookie sitting next to her and is now looking at Alex like she’s seen a ghost. 

Alex raises her eyebrows after meeting Henri’s eyes, just a little as she’s on her way to her stall, but Henri follows quickly behind her. 

“Brinksy, you look…” she starts, then stops to smile a little, eyes still a little wide. “Awesome.” 

Alex smiles, ducks her head a little. 

“I never thought about wearing this,” she says, gesturing at Alex’s outfit and Alex tilts her head a little. “Something cute, you know? Kind of taboo, yeah?” 

Alex shrugs, smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Not in this room,” she says, nudging Henri as she starts to pull her gear from the shelves. “You could come in in a ballgown and I’d hype the fuck out of you.” 

“Little impractical, no?” Henri says, nudging Alex back, but she’s really smiling now. “Anyway, this is… good. Good to know.” 

Alex smiles, pulls Henri into a side hug. “Good,” she repeats, ruffling Henri’s hair a little before pushing her away. 

Dylan is at her side soon after, yellow gatorade in an outstretched hand and a smile on his face. 

“Joki say something?” he asks, cracking the seal on his own bottle. 

Alex shrugs. “Don’t be shocked if she shows up looking like Cinderella tomorrow.” 

Dylan just laughs, then tugs his hoodie off and starts to get ready. 

Alex mills around on her phone for a little longer, waiting for everyone to make their way in the room. Hayds is the last one in, as always, so once he takes his spot at his stall, she pushes herself to her feet and toward the center of the room. 

“Alright, listen up,” she says, projecting a little over the murmur of the room, grabbing their attention. Everyone’s eyes are on her and she… kind of loves it. 

“I’m Alex, and I’ll be one of your alternate captains this year,” she says, tucking her thumbs into the waistband of the overalls. “But most of you already knew that. I’m leading today because Jonny is too good for all of us just yet.” 

Everyone laughs a little at that, and that’s enough to take away the remaining trepidation that settled in her chest. 

“Easy practice today, just to get your legs moving,” she goes on, shrugging a little. “Stromer is going to lead stretches once we’re on the ice, so meet at center ice in about half an hour. Let’s get it going.”

There’s a bit of perfunctory applause, some whooping from Hayds that sets off the rookies into a fit of laughter, and when she looks around the room, she doesn’t know why she was afraid in the first place. 

By the time she and Dylan finish their stretches and he’s braided her hair, she’s feeling more at home than ever.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> untagged characters are jonny, sharpy, and henri jokiharju, all women. 
> 
> here's alex's outfit! ([shirt](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/D4zqnQtXkAU9O-c?format=jpg&name=small), [skirt/overalls](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/D4zqnQtW0AALtH7?format=jpg&name=small), and [cat flats](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/D4zqnQ3WAAA9-Ih?format=jpg&name=small))


End file.
